Spring is coming.

Have you ever tried to take a simple photo of a bush. A bush in Yorkshire. That’s Yorkshire where the sun might be out but it’s blowing an absolute howler of a Gale. The perfect weather for out of focus photography.

Out of focus.

To be fair that’s been me since 2016. Better recently but still not completely focused.

So many reasons for that but one thing stands out. Let’s go back to the summer of 2016. I’ve driven my partner into hospital for a short stay so they can conduct some exploratory tests. Our son in the back seat. What did we talk about. Can’t remember. I’ve tried but can’t remember. Probably talked about visiting and picking her up again on Friday. Probably about some jobs to be done. Maybe some shopping…..

When I returned on the evening she was sleeping so we never spoke.

I returned the next day. She wasn’t feeling too good and was having tests so I didn’t see her.

Friday I turned up and was taken to a separate room by the Doctor. Her condition had worsened overnight. The test results were appalling. She had at most a few weeks. She was drifting in and out of consciousness. If she woke then she would probably not be aware of who was around her.

That was it. No more conversations. We never discussed the new reality. The grim new future. The plans we had were in tatters. No new joint plans. As a result I’ve felt out of focus. Hesitant about my intentions. Trying to think about what we might have talked about and agreed if we had one more conversation. Guessing what she would have wanted. Trying to make decisions for the both of us.

It’s only recently that I’ve started to go fully with my views. Can I ever be certain what she would have wanted. It’s hard enough to work out what I’m thinking some days. So yes still probably out of focus but now it’s just through my eyes.

60 thoughts on “Out of focus

  1. I’m so sorry that you didn’t get any closure with your partner’s death. It is one of the most troubling thing about sudden death, the lack of a proper goodbye or any chance of discussing what happens next. Lots of prayers for you and hugs.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. In a week, my husband will have been gone for four years. He died suddenly of a massive heart attack out of state. I say that only to say, I understand what I can from my perspective a part of what you are going through. Time doesn’t heal, it teaches you to endure. The pain and loss doesn’t go away, it lessens to a bearable level. You are doing well. All we can ever do is take things one step at a time, what counts, is that we are taking those steps.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Again, you brought a new perspective on “focus”. We can focus on something but that focus can slip into the background when life happens and all of a sudden, we have difficulties finding any focus at all. I think it is right those times when we are forced to learn that focus is not given but needs to be chosen. Life has tough ways to teach.
    Sending you the biggest hug, Gary 💖

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Oh, my friend, it is no wonder you are still out of focus. You may never be certain of what she would have wanted in the huge grand scheme of things but in the day to day, I think she would have wanted you to endure.

    Liked by 2 people

  5. What happened to you was so cruel, must have been so shocking and of course you’ve felt unsure about your partner’s decisions. But you knew her well and I am sure she would have trusted you to make decisions for her. What if the roles had been reversed? Surely you would have trusted her decisions? I think your focus is becoming more clear. It’s so hard, Gary. I so feel for you.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. I feel like you are finding your focus and gaining confidence in the decisions you are making. It must be hard without someone to discuss things with and to share the load of decision making. Everything down to you. One thing I am sure of though, she would be truly proud of how you have managed and supportive of the decisions you have been forced to make alone. I’m also sure if she could let you know that, she would ❤️

    Liked by 2 people

  7. That sounds so very difficult to deal with. I hope that you will be able to come to terms with knowing she loved you and approves of what you are doing. Not having a final conversation sounds absolutely devastating.

    Liked by 2 people

  8. You really ARE going to help so many people when they stumble onto this blog. COVID has robbed lots of people of that final conversation.
    Seeing things out of focus isn’t bad. It soften things up, smoothes out the sharp edges.

    You’re doing great! Never doubt it. There’s no such thing as a “perfect parent”. Only loving, supportive, human (makes mistakes) parents.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. I can’t imagine not only losing my partner, but also not having the time to plan or prepare for the loss. Everything must have been a blur. And then the world throws this nightmare at us. Meanwhile you’re trying to navigate single parenting your son who has special needs. Look how strong you are. I know you never would have chosen this, but it is showing you and those who know you how amazing you are. How you are made up of courage, character, integrity and love. You have truly been stretched from all sides, and yet you do not break. What a testament to the love you have for your partner and the hope you have in your son. 💕

    Liked by 1 person

  10. I just left a comment on Jill’s blog about compassion, and how it is a feeling I have trouble understanding. Right now I should be feeling compassion towards you, and I do a bit, but the lesson I am hearing in your words is to live in the present, and not make too many plans for the future.
    I have lost people in my life, some through death, some through break-ups, some for reasons I will never know or understand. I think they are all affected by my probably biggest loss, my mother when I was just 8 years old. One day she was at home, next day she was gone. My father informed me she was in the hospital, but everyone I knew who had gone to the hospital came back. He would never let myself or my younger brother go to visit her, thinking he was somehow protecting us from something. He never told us she had terminal cancer, or what that meant. She was gone for months. Then one day my father came home and announced she was dead. She had been virtually dead to me for so long there was nothing to feel anymore. Again, he did not let my little brother and I go to the funeral. Closure? What the hell is closure?
    I don’t mean to be so unfeeling, Gary, but this is what I am feeling/not feeling. I think this experience has prevented me from ever feeling that close to anyone ever again. Don’t let your partner’s death do that to you! When you are ready to start feeling again, do it right, go all the way. Love is too important to deny it to anyone, or to stop someone from giving their love to you. And when you do fall in love again, I know you will, live in the present. Love her like every minute counts!

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Sorry about the way this turned out for you. Just know that whatever your decisions were, those were the right one.
    And you have a son? Wonderful. So part of your partner is still with you. Have you considered how lucky you are? You are!
    All the best to you. Grieve for as long as you need to and then refocus. If not for you, then for that precious little boy whose eyes adore you. You are not alone. Blessings, Selma

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s